


Let’s Pretend

by bastilas



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux is So Done, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Armitage Hux, Pre-TFA, Sickfic, That's Not How The Force Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastilas/pseuds/bastilas
Summary: On their way back from a check-in on the progress of Starkiller Base, Kylo falls ill and it’s up to Hux to care for him. But of course things are never that straightforward when it comes to Kylo Ren.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 23
Kudos: 157





	Let’s Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Ok first of all, if Kylo's sickness in this fic seems to have some resemblance to COVID-19, I swear that's entirely a coincidence lol. I wrote this for Kylux Positivity Week way back in the end of January and took months to work myself up to editing this fic because I'm very unsatisfied with it. 
> 
> Two, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes in this—I only looked over it myself and usually edit more but I just really wanted to move on from this fic. It didn't turn out how I wanted it to at all. 
> 
> Anyway, in spite of that, I hope it’s enjoyable!

Hux is dead on his feet. Three gruelling days spent upon the surface of Ilumn performing the necessary tests to finally confirm the planet's readiness has left him fatigued in a way he almost never is. He's lacking the usual keen clarity of his thoughts, of his steps being sharp and precise. Now, they can't help but drag. Ren is suffering from the same affliction too, he notes, watching the way Ren stumbles a step as they board their shuttle.

Hux's lips tighten into a thin line as he watches Ren recover, and he switches his gaze to the cockpit. The sooner the preflight check is completed, the sooner he'll be back in the comfort of his new General's quarters. There's no time to antagonize Ren.

Currently, the _Finalizer_ is on the other side of the galaxy, which means the shuttle will take about twenty standard hours to get them there. Hux intently looks forward to spending that time sitting down, datapad in hand, typing reports, and then sleeping.

As he waits for feedback from the shuttle's systems, he hears Ren wandering around the hall outside the cockpit, rummaging through one of the compartments and coughing up an awful storm. But what Ren _should_ be doing is helping Hux check the ship's fuel gage. Hux, however, has already learned to not expect much in the way of helpfulness from Snoke's new apprentice. He stands from the co-pilot's seat and checks it himself.

Satisfied there's more than enough fuel to make the journey back to the _Finalizer_ —and more if the need arises—Hux calls Ren into the cockpit. Hux _could_ pilot, but unlike Ren, he knows when to concede the difference in their abilities. Ren is a far better pilot than Hux, as he never really had the chance to learn how to fly beyond flight simulations at the academy.

Ren enters the cockpit — no, _stomps_ into the cockpit, already grating on Hux's nerves.

With less grace than usual, Ren falls into the pilot's seat, coughing again. The sound of it being filtered through his mask is rather aggravating.

Ren starts the engines, checks the coordinates were input correctly—they were, Hux checked several times—and brings them up into the air. Hux opens his datapad up, starts a new document, and barely gets five words in before the ships rumbles and rattles. His eyes dart up to the viewport where nothing is visible but the fog of the cloud they're within.

Ren swears and jerks them so far to the side Hux's datapad falls out of his hands and skids across the cockpit floor.

"Ren!" Hux shouts as Ren fumbles with the controls, trying to reign in their errant ship back in the prime position to break out of the stratosphere of the planet. Hux knows Snoke's new apprentice is an excellent pilot; he's seen him participate in battles, flying at speeds no normal human could process. Hell, Hux even witnessed him taking out enemy battalions single-handedly with not a scratch upon his own fighter.

"Ren, what's going on?!"

Ren keeps his masked face aimed squarely out the viewport, not responding to Hux's question. The shuttle continues to shudder so violently it feels as though the bolts of its foundation will loosen and it will fall apart—yet only seconds later they break into the blue sky of Ilumn, and soon thereafter, the smooth lack of gravity that is space.

Hux allows his shoulders to slump, having not realized they'd gotten so stiff, and uncurls his fingers from where they'd been clenching the armrests.

With a couple of buttons pressed, Ren takes them to light-speed. The jump is smooth, barely causing more than a shift of gravitational force within the ship before light streaks dance outside the viewport, bathing their faces in blue light.

Hux unstraps himself from the co-pilot's seat, bending down to retrieve his (hopefully) unharmed datapad while Ren leaves the cockpit for the back of the ship; likely to perform his ridiculous Sith rituals or whatever other activities it is force-sensitive individuals engage in.

Hux rolls his eyes at the doorway Ren left through and picks the datapad up, pleased to see the screen's surface as shiny as ever, no scratches or cracks to be seen. He picks up right where he'd left in the report, resuming the overview of their mission before he dives into the granular details.

In the back of the ship, Ren's coughing echoes again. Hux sighs heavily, tunes it out, and resumes.

Just twenty hours upon this chilly shuttle. That's all he has to put up with.

☆

Sometime later, something in the back of the shuttle shatters, and not two seconds after, there's a clang so loud it causes Hux to jump in his seat. Then silence.

He shuts his datapad off with the press of a button, stands, and places the device on the seat behind him.

With hurried steps, he leaves the cockpit only to come to a halting step, his eyes widening.

On the durasteel floor lies Ren, a swath of black robes and blood. Broken pieces of an insulated mug lie all over, dotting steel-grey floor in black shards. There's water too—mixed in with the blood, likely coming from the pieces of porcelain embedded in the upper left side of Ren's abdomen.

"Ren?" Hux tests. No response, not even a twitch or reflexive jump of a muscle.

Stars, is he _dead_? Hux's heart feels like it's in his throat, for surely Supreme Leader Snoke would punish him for allowing his prized apprentice to die right under his nose; for overlooking the way he'd been coughing, or the way he'd tripped on the loading ramp. Hell, he'd even overlooked Ren's shoddy piloting, chalking it up to Ren being in a bad mood. But Hux's fears of Snoke torturing are quickly assuaged when he sees Ren's diaphragm expand as he takes a breath in.

"Ren?" Hux tries once again. Ren is still motionless.

Fuck.

If Ren were awake, Hux is sure he'd be run through with a lightsaber the second he lays his hands on Ren's helmet, searching for its releases. But Ren isn't here with him, and Hux takes the mask off anyway.

He isn't sure what he'd been expecting — maybe a deeply scarred face or disfigurement. Perhaps even semi-human features and amber eyes, like sith legends of old, but as the helmet hisses, allowing Hux to free it of Ren's face, all he finds is smooth, pale skin dotted in moles. Hux sits back a bit, setting the mask to the side. His eyes run over the dark hue of Ren's eyelashes, of his messy mop of hair, his prominent nose and plush lips, and thinks that maybe, if a sheen of sweat didn't cover Ren's face, if stringy, damp strands of hair weren't plastered to his face, he may want to stare for a moment longer.

But Ren's shallow breathing tears his attention away. Paired with an excessive amount of perspiration, it doesn't paint a reassuring picture.

Hux pulls one of his gloves off, sets it to his side, and puts the back of his hand up to Ren's forehead to feel for temperature. It's hot. Much too hot. Even though his own hands are chilled from the nip of ship's cool air, thus making Ren's forehead feel searing, Hux knows no human should be reaching such a high temperature.

Hux figures he should get Ren out of his ten layers of robes. Which... may be easier said than done. Ren is not a petite man by any means, and the complicated buckles, straps, and buttons that make up Ren's robe aren't any help either.

He clenches his teeth and refrains from swearing. This is the last thing he'd wanted to deal with today.

He takes the ragged and fire-torn scarfed hood off first, setting it beside Ren's helmet, then moving onto Ren's belt next, which comes undone with an easy clink. After that, he moves onto the tabard—it's a puzzle at first, but Hux quickly realizes there are hidden claps beneath it keeping it together. Making short work of them, he opens the tabard off Ren's chest, only to be greeted by suspenders and another goddamn shirt. It's a wonder Ren doesn't overheat on the daily.

Hux gives a frustrated puff of air and takes the tabard piece off, one arm at a time. Jostling Ren's unconscious form doesn't so much as stir him. Hux's brows pinch together. He unbuckles the suspenders and unzips Ren's shirt, thankful there isn't another layer beneath. Next, off comes Ren's gloves, then his boots, socks, and finally, his pants.

What's left is an endless sea of pale, flawless skin dotted in moles that overlay an extremely fit body. Hux's eyes catch on Ren's abdomen; his dusky nipples, toned pecs, the way his abdominals subtly flex as he breathes in and out. Hux darts his eyes away. Just because it's been years now since he'd last seen another man without a shirt on does not mean he should allow his eyes to linger. Instead, he pulls his gaze to the patches of maroon where shards of the mug cut into Ren's shoulder when he'd fallen.

Aside from the cuts, Ren's body is near without flaw. Hux always thought Ren's body would be a mass graveyard of burnt, puckered skin, not the perfect and enviable thing that lies in front of his eyes.

Ren takes in a shuddery breath. Hux realizes he shouldn't leave Ren on the floor—he needs to get Ren into the berth nearby to treat him. Leaving him on the frigid floor won't help anything. But that's if he can even lift Ren onto the bed. While Hux keeps up a somewhat strict workout regimen, it by no means focuses on building muscle—of which is all Ren seems to be made up of. 

He takes a deep breath in and squats down, putting his arms beneath the middle of Ren's back and under his legs. With his left hand still ungloved, he can feel the soft skin of Ren's bare back, how his skin emanates too much warmth to be normal, how it's plastered in sweat, and the large layer of muscle lying just beneath.

Using every muscle possible, Hux pushes up using his legs, his arms already shaking just from having to bear Ren's incredible weight. With staggered steps, he crosses the small distance from where Ren had been lying to the berth half-embedded in the wall. Unable to bear Ren's weight any longer, Hux drops the man onto the bed, wincing once realizing the perfectly pressed sheets will now be stained with sweat.

Ren makes a noise, sort of like a mumble, but otherwise stays under.

Hux sighs, exits the passenger compartment, and digs out the medkit from the emergency supplies compartment in the back of the shuttle. Annoyed steps take him back to Ren's bedside, where he drops the kit to the side of Ren onto the sheets. Inside, there's a large store of bacta. More than enough to get Ren patched up. Hux takes some of the patches out, removes the plastic wrappers, and places them over the sluggishly bleeding spots upon Ren's arm. Once all spots are covered, he allows himself a couple of seconds to relax his shoulders, which have become unexpectedly tense.

He closes the medkit and places it on the floor near the berth. The next step is getting Ren to sit up so that he may breathe properly. Lying down seems to make his breathing go all wheezy; thankfully, propping Ren up on pillows is a far easier ordeal than lifting him onto the bed had been.

Once satisfied, he stares, regarding the open and almost peaceful quality of Ren's unconscious expression. So this is Snoke's apprentice. Nothing more than a boy wearing a mask, pretending to be something larger than he is. If he were awake, Hux is sure those dark, heavy brows would be twisted downwards into a glare.

But the reality of it is that Ren remains unconscious, and the sounds coming from Ren's throat are wheezy and wet. He's incredibly pale too — even for a man who spends his time under ten pounds worth of robes.

Hux fetches a bottle from the back of the ship and fills it with the cold water. When he comes back, he finds Ren making a weird panting sound—as if he's overheating. Without even thinking, Hux holds the cool bottle of water up to Ren's forehead.

A sudden loud gasp, and snap — Ren's eyes open. He shoots forward, nearly knocking the water bottle from Hux's hand.

"Where's my master?" He demands, staring into empty space as if there's a being there. The clear inflection of his voice lost to the phlegm in his throat. Still, Hux finds himself thrown by how smooth and naked it is without the mask's vocoder.

"What?" Hux asks with a genuine puzzle when he's gathered his mind.

Ren turns to stare at him, their eyes meeting, yet he's still wide-eyed. His expression doesn't shift to one of recognition. Even in spite of Ren's delirium and sickness, Hux can't help but be grabbed by the open, unguarded quality of his face. Whereas with a mask present, Ren seemed like a being only fuelled by anger, the man beneath seems to be just that; a man.

"My master, where is he?" Ren asks again, urgency increasing.

"Do you mean Snoke?"

"Not Snoke. My master."

Hux's mouth works to form words, but he can't think of any. His lingering silence in response to Ren's question does nothing to quell the man's delirium—if anything, Ren's breathing becomes more rapid, and his eyes dart around the passenger compartment as if it'll help ascertain more helpful information. It won't. All Hux wants is for Ren to come to his senses and stop acting like a spaced-out freak high on spices.

"I can't go back. You can't make me go back. He was going to kill me ... I had to do it."

"What are you going on about?" Hux snaps. Perhaps Ren is talking about the Jedi academy he'd supposedly destroyed? In which case—it's been a year since that happened. Ren is clearly in a state of confusion due to his illness, which is little help in Hux's effort to get him better.

"I had to do it." Ren repeats, voice embarrassingly full of emotion. "I had to."

"I don't care!" Hux says testily. "Ren, do you know where we are?"

"You can't take me back." Ren's breathing really starts to uptick. Hux has always known the man to be erratic, but this is just a new low, and Hux would be laughing at this pathetic display of emotion if it weren't for the very real threat of Ren going into a panic attack, thus making his coughing and breathing worse. Hux doesn't need to be explaining to Snoke his apprentice died because of his neglect once they arrive back to the _Finalizer._

Through Ren's coughing fit, Hux raises his voice. "Listen to me," he states. "You're Kylo Ren. You're aboard our shuttle on the way back to the First Order. You just... had a nightmare. Everything will be – fine. I'm not taking you anywhere you don't want to go."

Ren's coughing seems to get worse. In the small spaces between coughs, he gasps for air. His face is turning red, and the fit sounds like the type that hurts.

Hux panics. He's no idea how to help with such a thing. He's been sick very little in his lifetime, and when he had been, it'd never once been this serious.

Maybe water can help calm it? Hux flips open the lid to the water bottle in hand, but Ren's coughing has already calmed, and he lies back in the bed, staring at the roof of the berth.

"Ren?"

No response. Ren's eyes shut and for a second, Hux thinks Ren's gone and died on him. But seconds later, he can see and hear his breathing.

He's gone unconscious again. Hux clenches his jaw and forced himself to not jerk Ren back awake.

With Ren taken care of for the moment, Hux takes notice of the way his own eyelids feel heavy, of the yawn that wants to escape him. There are still twenty or so hours until they arrive at the _Finalizer's_ coordinates and he's been up for twenty hours already. He'd planned to take a nap in the co-pilot's chair, as Ren would've no doubt commandeered the bed (and he's already done exactly that). But, unlike Hux's original plan, he won't be sleeping in the co-pilot's chair. Instead, he has to be Ren's caretaker yet again, this time by sitting up beside him in the bed so that the damned idiot doesn't slump over and suffocate in his sleep.

Hux takes his greatcoat off, folding it in precise creases and setting it to the side of the berth where he can collect it once he wakes.

He pushes Ren over in the bed to the wall as much as he can, as the berth can just barely fit two people. Since the sheets are already dirtied, Hux doesn't bother to take off his boots—it's not like he needs to be comfy anyway. This is just a nap so he doesn't pass out from exhaustion. He settles onto the mattress, much too aware of Ren's near-unclothed state beside him.

Hux forces his eyes closed and tips his head back.

-

He isn't sure if it's the motion or sound that wakes him.

His eyes snap open and he turns to the side to see Ren hacking and gasping, each cough sounding depleted of air and wet. Way too wet. There are tears streaming from Ren's eyes, and his face is pink.

It's then Hux remembers that there were required to get vaccinated for a deadly virus easily contracted on Illumn's surface. Hux got the shot the second he'd found out it was necessary, as the symptoms sounded rather dreadful. The worst of which being pneumonia it easily caused. But, it seems Ren was not so proactive; perhaps he'd thought himself above such protective measures.

Thankfully, before Hux has to step in, Ren finally catches a break in the form of a deep gasp, finally being able to take in air.

"Ren, are you—"

Ren pulls his hand away from his mouth. It's covered in specks of blood.

Hux jumps out of the bed while Ren stares.

"You didn't get the vaccine, did you?" Hux seethes.

Ren tears his gaze away from the flecks of red. This time around there's recognition in his eyes, but Hux isn't sure if that's entirely good considering the way Ren's eyebrows are drawn together, his lips pressed into a fine line. "Why were you in my bed?" He demands.

Hux's face turns pink but he crosses his arms and stands tall. He doesn't have to explain himself to the man that went and got himself sick. "You didn't get the shot. Why?"

Ren sneers. "Fuck off, Hux." He coughs a couple of times and wipes the blood on his hand onto his thigh. His brows draw together. "Where is my mask?" He looks back up, right eyebrow slightly raised. " _My robes_?"

"You would've slumped over and choked on your own phlegm, or overheated if it weren't for me taking care of you. Not a great way for the great _Jedi Killer_ to go out, now is it?"

Ren's teeth grit, and his eyes go incensed like he's about to begin yelling, but luckily a coughing fit overtakes him again.

Hux wonders if blood will come up again. About how serious of an issue that could mean.

Once Ren catches his breath again, his sweaty abdomen heaves as he tries to pull in more air. "Get me some water and a painkiller _now_ ," he demands. Hux then realizes his eyes were still set on the rippling muscles of Ren's abdominals. He tears his gaze back to Ren's and hates the ways his face turns pink.

Thankfully before Ren has the opportunity to comment, another coughing fit overtakes him.

Hux takes the respite of Ren's attention to turn around and indulge Ren's requests. He loathes playing the part of babysitter, but dutifully walks over to the table nearby, opens the medkit, and grabs the ibuprofen, if only because Ren's death would be inconvenient. He swipes the water bottle off the counter and walks back to Ren to shove it in his hands.

Ren immediately lifts it up to his lip and chugs the water down.

"You shouldn't have done that," Hux warns.

Ren glares, takes a pill, and downs the rest of the water.

Hux sighs. It'll be Ren's fault if he starts throwing up from consuming too much too fast. Not wanting to deal with Ren vomiting, Hux leaves the passenger compartment in search of his datapad; he has a report to finish, and though annoyed, he can't help feeling worried about Ren's condition. Coughing up blood is no joking matter—and likely an indication if he doesn't receive help the minute they get back to the _Finalizer_ , the consequences could be fatal.

Before he starts on the report again, he writes a quick message to the _Finalizer's_ medical office, telling them to be ready for them the minute their shuttle gets back.

Next, Hux checks the time only to discover he'd napped much longer than thought. Four hours. He never sleeps that long.

In the back of the shuttle, he can hear Ren moving, then the sound of the fresher door hissing shut. There's retching and other disgusting noises Hux tunes out, instead going back to the report on his datapad. All he needs is one standard hour to finish so it may be sent off to the rest of the council.

He gets to work.

-

There's a lot Hux can get done in fifteen minutes. But finishing a report about a week's worth of events is not one of them.

When Ren's coughing and heaving suddenly go silent, Hux sets the datapad to the side, stands, and takes sharp brusque steps to the fresher door.

"Ren?" He calls.

No response. Hux hopes he hasn't passed out again. He presses the button on the access panel for the fresher door and is relieved to find it slides open, Ren having clearly been in no headspace to lock it.

Sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, lies Ren with his knees folded up and arms wrapped around his abdomen. The sounds coming out of his mouth are ragged, wet, and wheezy — something worrying enough on its own. But he's shaking too. Horribly so. Even worse are his dark eyes, glassy and glazed over as if he's not aware of the world around him anymore. Maybe he's half-conscious again.

"Ren?" Hux tries again.

Snoke's apprentice continues to shake.

And of course he is. The shuttle air is already cool enough, but with the metal of the wall touching Ren's bare back and his fever, it's likely leeching a sharp chill into Ren's skin and the bones beneath. Hux comes to stand before Ren and crouches down, feeling for his temperature yet again and finds it to have barely changed - maybe it'd gone down a little, but that barely matters now that Ren's apparently freezing to death on the floor.

The weirdest part, though, is the way Ren leans into the back of Hux's fingers on his forehead, as if he's a pet unconsciously searching for affection.

Hux moves his hand away as if burnt, but the ghost of Ren's skin against his own still lingers. He can't remember the last time someone has sought out the touch of his skin.

Gritting his teeth, Hux stands. "Ren, get up. We need to get you in the shower."

Not only would a shower do wonders for Ren's smell, but the lukewarm water of a shower would help even out his body temperature, seeing as there aren't dozens of blankets readily lying around to help warm him.

"Ren, you need to get up and get in the shower."

"Mmm," Ren mumbles.

"Fine, I'll do it myself."

Even though his muscles still feel tender just from lifting Ren into the bed earlier. Instead, he drags Ren the short distance to the shower door.

And then he realizes his unaccounted for mistake.

"Underwear off."

Ren, however, is otherwise engaged with a coughing fit and continues to shake violently.

Hux flares his nostrils, ducks down, and grabs hold of the band of Ren's underwear. He looks away as he pulls it down, sparing both himself and Ren from this unfortunate indignity. Ren is thankfully still somewhat aware and allows it to happen instead of acting out or slamming Hux against the walls with his powers.

"Get in," Hux commands, still refusing to look down. He turns on the water until it's slightly warm.

Once Ren's body isn't busy fighting off abdomen crunching coughs, Hux can hear him shuffle over.

Ren gives a sharp swear under his breath. "Why'd you make it so damn cold?" He demands, but the effect is entirely lost between the water falling in the shower and the scratchy quality his voice has taken on. It sounds even worse than before.

"I set it to be slightly warm. Any more or less than that and it would just make your fever worse," Hux says to the wall.

"Just wait until the medicine kicks in. I won't need your help anymore," Ren spits, entirely ungrateful. Hux huffs. It's Ren's fault he ended up like this in the first place, and he'd be worse off or perhaps even _dead_ if Hux hadn't helped him when he passed out.

With his lower lip curled, and arms crossed, he scoffs. "I doubt it. They're barely doing anything now. I have only the water to thank for bringing you back to lucidity."

Hux can just feel the retort he'll receive back from Ren — petty and ungrateful. But instead of Ren's raspy voice, he devolves into a fit of coughing and hacking. It goes on for longer than expected; to the point where Ren is gasping for air again.

For just a second, Hux forgets their situation, alarm overriding his want to give Ren privacy.

It's a mistake.

At some point Ren must have stood up in the shower, the water masking the noise of where his voice had been coming from. It leaves Hux with an expansive view of his backside through the transparasteel; Ren is bent over and braced against the wall, enduring another coughing fit. There are so many moles dotting his back, almost like a constellation—it's then it truly dawns on Hux how broad Ren is. How square with muscle his back is. If anything, Ren's black robes had the effect of hiding said muscles.

Against his will, heats starts to gather between Hux's legs. It's _ridiculous_. He's shared barracks and public showers with other men since he was seven. One man's nudity shouldn't be causing a spark to flare up each time one of the muscles on his back ripple. Not to mention, this is Snoke's new apprentice. The same man who destroys consoles on an angry whim, who never listens to a word of Hux's despite them sharing command. The same man who refused to get a vaccination and became deathly sick because of it.

So why does he want nothing more than to reach out and run a hand down Ren's back?

"You wanted to see me naked this bad? You could've just offered, General."

Hux jumps, eyes widening. "No," he says much too quickly. "I'm just trying—"

Ren cuts him off with laugh. "You know I can sense your thoughts right?"

Hux sneers, even while his face turns pink against his will. "You're sick and you're gross."

"Resorting to children's insults now?"

Hux glares into the back of Ren's head, and he hopes Ren can feel _just_ how disgusted Hux is by him. How much he loathes Ren.

But instead of responding to that, Ren stands straight. "The medicine is starting to kick in now," he says. As if Hux cares.

"Good for you. Glad you've got rid of a headache."

Ren says nothing in return, instead, he goes deathly still and begins to breathe in and out deeply in long intervals. Hux finds himself mesmerized by the motion of Ren's breathing and the shower water flowing all the down to the dip in his lower back to his ass. Hux quickly averts his eyes away from looking any further.

When Ren turns around, Hux makes sure his gaze is fully set on Ren's face, and doesn't allow it to go elsewhere. His breathing has lost its ragged quality, and his eyes appear awake and alert in a way they haven't since Hux first took off his helmet. Hux takes a quick look down at his shoulders and abdomen — sure enough, where bacta patches once poorly covered up thin, line-like scabs where he'd been cut by the glass, only smooth skin remains. He looks back up into Ren's eyes to see him staring intensely.

Hux's eyebrows knit. "What did you do? Was that the force?"

Ren shuts the water off and steps out without caring about the water dropping all over the floor. His movement is no longer lumbered down by his sickness—instead, he somehow retains the grace of a lothcat despite having a body built closer to that of a rancor's. He stalks closer and closer to Hux, their eyes still connected, and when he enters Hux's personal space, he feels like his heart skips a beat, maybe ten.

Ren surges forward, putting a hand on Hux's chest, pushing him into the wall while his other arm came to rest on the wall beside Hux's head. There are plush, soft lips covering his own before he can even comprehend what's happening, forcing a sound that sounds like "mphhh" from him.

Ren's lips are aggressive. They move against his own rapidly, his breathing coming in sharp pants from his nose. Hux doesn't even know how to respond — he's never been kissed by another, let alone in such a voracious fashion. He struggles to move his lips to match Ren's, isn't sure what to do with them otherwise, before he wonders why he's even bothering in the first place.

Ren has done nothing but ridicule him since day one, and now he's only using Hux's body for his own gain.

Hux pushes him off, mind sent spinning from how much he's feeling. His body is overly hot and there's a ghost of soft lips against his own still.

Ren's eyes blink open, and Hux is surprised to see a lost look in them, and even further shocked to see how wide they've gone.

"What was that?" Hux demands, loathing the way his face has gone bright pink.

Ren's lips purse and something like hurt briefly flashes across his features. He doesn't look the part of Snoke's apprentice anymore, but instead looks more like just any other young man. "I thought... with you helping me and undressing me, I—"

Hux's mouth parts slightly when he realizes. Ren is from the New Republic, he didn't grow up in the First Order like Hux and the other officers. Where nudity is a fact of life in barracks and showers; privacy is a luxury afforded only to high ranking officers. But for Ren, he must've grown up in a more modest setting. And that fact paired with him apparently being able to read Hux's mind... it's no wonder.

"No," Hux denies breathily, feeling far out of his own range of confidence for the first time in years. "I— I just wanted to do my reports and to sleep. But instead I have you harassing me." He meant to inject heat into that statement, but it comes out flat and without conviction. None of it rings true or even sounds convincing, not to his own ears, and evidently not to Ren either—even without Ren's force to test the truth of it, it's obvious.

Ren's lips are back on his and this time Hux is powerless against fighting it—not when the sensation sends goosebumps raising across his skin, and for some warm feeling he refuses to think about occur inside his chest. He chooses to focus on the sensations of Ren instead; of Ren's firm and warm body pressed up against his, of the way his lips are wet and soft. Even though Hux is slow to react to Ren's lips and clumsy in his movements, Ren guides him along well enough. It's a surprise when teeth come out into play. He receives a nip at his bottom lip, gives a slight jump, but it sends his mind into a further haze in which Kylo Ren is the only thing in focus.

Hux likes this sensation. Kissing. Or would it be more accurate to say making out? He isn't sure—doesn't have the experience to differentiate. It's just– to feel so connected with someone else. So enthralled by their appearance that there's no other way to act it out but have their bodies close and their lips together. And for the other person to feel the same in turn.

Hux hasn't felt the touch of another in years. And a touch as intimate as this? Even longer.

He loves it. Hates that he loves it. Even as he leans into Ren's touch. Even as he chases after his lips.

Heat flushes through his body, and where his hands rest on Ren's collarbone, his fingers tense. He pushes back against Ren, capturing his plump lower lip between his teeth and biting down just in the slightest. Ren smiles. He can feel it.

Riding this new surge of energy, Ren pushes his hips close up against Hux's, his arousal unmistakable at this point.

"Do you want to take this to the bed?" Ren asks, voice low. Cleared of the rasp it held while sick.

Hux nods, an anxious thrill shooting through him. He may be out of his experience range, but he wants this.

What he doesn't expect is for Ren to pick him up as if he was nothing more than a paperweight. Hux just barely escapes making an embarrassing of surprise.

"How are you feeling so much better already?" Hux asks, wrapping his legs around Kylo and holding as Ren carries them to the passenger compartment. The overhead lights must've automatically shut off, as now only dim blue light emanates from strips on the floor and walls.

"It was a technique I learned before," Ren says. "I don't want to talk about that right now."

Hux wants to hear more about it though. So much of Ren's past is a foggy cloud—he knows only that Ren had been a student of Skywalker's before slaughtering the rest of the pupils there.

As if to stop Hux's thoughts from wandering, Kylo near throws him onto the bed and climbs atop. He silences the question on the tip of Hux's lips with another kiss that lingers. As he does so, Kylo begins to work the clasp of Hux's tunic with his hand. Once the collar is undone, the rest comes off easily.

Reluctantly, Hux lets Ren move back to help him take the entire thing off, leaving Hux in only a thin grey undershirt.

He shivers in the cold air of the shuttle, just barely resisting covering himself with his arms — for more than just the sake of being cold. He knows he's nothing impressive to look at, his limbs too thin and birdlike, the source of childhood jests.

And when Ren pulls the undershirt off too, this time a lot clumsier than before, he laughs. Heat blooms on Hux's cheeks, and he's about to sneer before he realizes where exactly Ren is starting. At his dogtag, not the bones of his ribs protruding and a lack of muscle.

"Armitage?" Ren asks, voice bathed in humour.

Hux wraps a hand around the back of Ren's neck. "Shut up," he sneers, and with a confidence he doesn't quite feel, he pulls him down to meet his lips again.

It's different, with no clothes to separate their skin. Wholly more intimate, and even more enrapturing. When Ren lays his whole weight against him, he finds himself almost shivering, and not wanting to ever separate again. It's such a ridiculous feeling, yet he cares little. Ren is panting and warm. Just as into this as he is. Hux wants to live in this skin-craving haze forever. To never go years without someone's touch upon him ever again.

He even almost makes a noise when Ren backs away again, but is promptly calmed by Ren's hand running down his abdomen to grip the bulge in his jodhpurs and squeezing. Hux arches up into the touch, giving a soft moan.

Ren sets out to undo Hux's pants, along with his boots, socks and briefs. The thought of being fully exposed in such a setting, before his co-commander of all people, sets his heart racing and on fire simultaneously. Even as he lets Ren take his boots off, as he'd done for Ren only hours before. But even though Hux is inexperienced, he refuses to go about this without confidence. To show even a shred of vulnerability.

Once it comes down to just his briefs, Hux pulls them down to his knees himself, making it easier for Ren to fully pull them off, leaving no barrier between the two of them whatsoever.

He's panting, he realizes as Ren stares at his cock for a short moment. It's nothing to marvel at—not in comparison to Ren's size. His racing heart makes this no easier, however.

Ren, seemingly not held down by the same nerves plaguing Hux, runs his hand up Hux's thigh, sending shivers up his spine. Ren takes hold of his cock, gripping it by the base and giving it a firm stroke, his thumb then roaming over the head. And then repeats the process again.

Hux inhales sharply, barely keeping his hips from jolting. Knowing if the stimulation didn't stop, this would be over quickly, Hux moves Ren's hand off of him and sits up, finally getting a proper eye full of Ren bare skin and cock. It's so much larger than originally thought, and if Hux weren't already so overwhelmed by Ren stroking his cock just a couple times, he might wonder what it would feel like inside himself. Or what it would be like to have such a powerful body beneath his own, overwhelmed by his touch.

Hux inches forward and Ren allows himself to be backed up, allows Hux to push on his shoulder to lie him down. He wants that same touch they had before; where they'd been lying together and kissing. But this time it's so much more with neither of them wearing a shred of cloth, and their cocks close enough Hux could stroke them both at once.

For a while it's just that—them making out, occasionally letting out the slightest of moans, their breathing heavy. Occasionally, Ren grinds his hips upward, seeking stimulation off of Hux's body. Hux's cock twitches from the mere thought—that Ren would desire him like that.

It's enough to make Hux break their connection and sit up, legs straddling Ren's, sitting with their hips almost connected. He almost regrets it, mostly for not realizing this would mean Ren's full attention, his entire body exposed for Ren's perusing. But Hux would've gotten nowhere in life if he'd let nerves stop him, so instead, he takes both of their cocks in hand to throw his attention to the more important matter at hand.

Ren jumps at the movement, his eyes leaving Hux's face to where Hux strokes with a firm grip, and a pace slightly more aggressive than Ren seemed to be expecting if the widening of his eyes is anything to go by.

Hux does this for a short time, eyes occasionally jumping from where he's stroking them to Ren's face, which is a kaleidoscope of emotion at all times. The last thing Hux expected when removing the mask was to find such an unguarded face beneath.

But, soon his arm tires, and Ren takes notice of the slowing pace. He looks as though he's about to make a remark with that stupid smirk on his face, but to Hux's surprise, he doesn't. He just moves Hux's hand away and continues what he'd been doing.

With Ren's hand on him — it's an entirely different sensation. Overwhelming and transfixing, and it feels far too good.

Hux's hips snap upward into Ren's hand, and all too quickly he feels a pressure between his legs, and pleasure so sharp and keen it runs all the way down to his toes.

Ren's hand only speeds up, and Hux keens. "Ren, I'm—"

Ren doesn't slow down at all, he tightens his grip, and Hux's hips buck uncontrollably as he comes onto Ren's chest, a strangled moan punched out of him.

Hux pants as he recovers, watching the man lying beneath him stroke himself, movements slowly getting more desperate until Hux takes over for little more than a minute, and he comes too, dirtying Hux's hand.

Hux's lip almost curls in disgust, but the fire lit in his belly runs stronger. He looks at his hand to Ren, who's completely lied back against the pillow, eyes open but heavily lidded.

Suddenly, Hux feels as though he's a stranger in his own body. For doing what they just did.

"Lie down," Ren says.

Hux looks at his hand, brows crossing. "But—"

"Just use the blanket."

Even as he does so, Hux sneers at the thought. "That's disgusting."

"It'll be cleaned eventually. Now just lie down."

Hux wants to protest, to grab his datapad, check the time, and finish the report left waiting for him, but his eyes have taken on a mind of their own now, as has the rest of his body. It's apparently not beholden to his usual self-discipline anymore. Hux blames it on the lack of lighting and Ren's calm breathing.

He allows himself to lie down close to the wall, leaving just a bit of space between the two of them, but Ren quickly corrects this and pulls Hux in close so that Hux is almost overtop of him. Instantly, Hux feels warmth form where their skin is connected, and the chill of the ship is all but forgotten. It feels strange to be lying down with someone, let alone a man he still doesn't trust, and has been the bane of his existence for months.

"Just relax," Ren tells him. "You're not going to fall asleep that way."

Hux releases the tension in his shoulders that he hadn't even realized had been there. He's tired. Hasn't slept in almost twenty-four hours now. He likes the warmth and the feeling of someone else breathing beside him. It fills an empty space he's not entirely sure he'd known he'd been carrying with himself for years, and now he wants nothing more than to hold on and never let go.

Good things like this though—they never last. They're always torn away before he ever really knew what he had.

In this case, Hux expects it'll be Ren himself to do it. Either Ren will no longer care now that he's gotten his pleasure from Hux, and is happy to discard him now that he used him. Or, perhaps somewhere down the line, Ren will screw it all up.

Either way, Hux lets himself have this. Just this once. And relaxes into Ren's space.

-

A sudden shrill alarm causes Hux to jump, his eyes flashing open only to relax once realizing it's the proximity alarm alerting there are thirty minutes left until the shuttle exits hyperspace.

It's an alarm of clarity.

Not more than ten or so hours ago, Kylo Ren had been on the verge of death because he thought himself above catching a virus. Hux took it upon himself to save Ren's life—if only to save himself from Snoke's wrath. Ren had been entirely ungrateful, and, even more infuriating, picked up on Hux's attraction, exploiting it for his own pleasure. Or—maybe it wasn't exploitation.

Hux, however, isn't willing to give Ren the benefit of doubt. Nobody does anything if there isn't a gain for them in it. Hux allowed himself to be weak for the first time in years, sharing his body and emotions with Ren, allowing him to see his fleshy underbelly. He's been a complete and utter idiot.

Ren snores softly beside him, face slack with peace, apparently entirely unaffected by the proximity alarm. Even if the sickness—or healing himself with the force—wore him out, it's no excuse to sleep through such an important warning.

Hux sits up and leaves the warmth of the sheets and Ren's body, gathering his foolishly haphazardly thrown clothes from the floor and dresses in a quick fashion. Ren gives a breathy sigh and stretches in the bed, likely woken by Hux's movements.

Before Ren says something, Hux leaves the passenger compartment to the cockpit, taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair. Opening his datapad, he picks off from right where he'd left in the report. He has less time than he'd like to work on it due to Ren, but it's no excuse to be late. The council will neither care nor accept it.

Some few minutes later, Ren joins him in the cockpit, fully dressed sans his helmet, which is held between his arm and hip. He's silent, only checking the ship's status and controls before sitting in the pilot's seat.

As Hux works away on his report, only hearing the humming of the ship's inner-workings and Ren's breathing jars him. Unable to stand it any longer, Hux sets his datapad on his lap and looks at Ren.

"Why the mask?" He asks.

"My knights," Ren says as if it explains anything. Hux has never even met the infamous group before. As if sensing this, Ren elaborates. "They wear masks to strike fear into their opponents. It's just... easier."

Hux frowns.

"Before, when you were... delirious, you mentioned that you couldn't go back to somewhere. That you would've died. What did you mean?"

The way Ren's eyes darken and his face turn stony, Hux wants to retract his question.

"I was just that. Delirious. I have no idea what I was talking about," Ren states, voice firm. He looks away from Hux to out the viewport, taking in the stars sliding by.

So that's that. He's shut out Hux, and whatever they shared in the passenger compartment had been nothing but a blip. Hux crosses his arms, sits back, then opens up his datapad again, pointedly ignoring Ren.

He only looks up once Ren drops them out of hyperspace, just outside the _Finalizer._

Ren dons the helmet with a hiss of its mechanics, and just like that, he's but a blank slate.

"Make sure to have your report ready for me once you've returned to your quarters," Hux tells him.

"You already made a report. I have more important ways to spend my time," Ren says.

Hux glares at the mask, wishing he could glance at Ren's expressive face once again. To search for anything more than petulance. He should have figured whatever small bit of intimacy they shared was some childish fantasy that could never last. Men like them don't kiss or hold each other, that's childish and weak. They were just ... in a haze from their long gruelling week in Starkiller's harsh conditions, and from Ren being sick. That's all. Being tired had made Hux crave comfort he didn't need, but now that's behind them.

When Ren brings the shuttle to land in the hanger bay, Hux realizes there's still a medical team on standby. He'd never cancelled that request.

It's beyond unlike him to be so careless.

Ren lands the shuttle and shuts down the ship's systems. Meanwhile, Hux gathers his coat and datapad, storming from the cockpit without waiting up for Ren.

"Hux, wait—"

But Hux is already walking down the loading ramp. "Your assistance is no longer needed," he says to the medroid, and carries on unperturbed despite Ren trailing after him. When he continues not to respond, Ren eventually picks up on the message, and they part ways after leaving the hanger.

It'll be like a game between the two of them. They'll pretend. Pretend nothing ever happened, and whoever breaks first, loses.

And Hux can't help but feel as though he won't win. 

Not when he longs for the feeling of someone beside him in bed in the shape of Ren.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, they always make me so happy to read and give me confidence!


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